I spent 9 years of my life working for Borders Books & Music. It was my first real job out of HS, it was where I sought refuge when I dropped out of college and it was where I found friends who continue with me today. In short, it was where I lived my life; it defined my 20s and much of who I am today, of what I have done, was born out of those experiences. This is nothing special, this is not unique. Any place that you spend so much time at is bound to leave it's mark on you, to affect you in some profound way (if it doesn't than wow, what a waste).
I left there almost 4 years ago but friends remain and my curiousity, my interest, is always a bit tweaked to news of Borders. So I was a bit sad a few months ago when I heard that the company was filing for Chap 11 bankruptcy protection. This wasn't a surprise, it was something I had been expecting for years, having followed the tales of mass layoffs, but still it was a bit of a shock. When a giant list of stores that would soon be closed came out I parsed through it, noting stores where I worked, where friends still worked and the store that I spent most of my time at. The store that was mine for 9 years. It wasn't on the list.
Yesterday I heard that the store I worked at is going to close. I was at that store from the day it was born. I helped put it together. The first layout of the bargain book section was all mine. The genre and reference books got on the shelf because of my work, my hands. My blood and sweat were in that store from the day it opened until the day I left. I am sorry for my friends that are still there who will be losing their jobs.
I think back on that store, of my time there, with a wistful sense of nostalgia. There is no loss in my memory, no deep regret for what was nor a longing to go back. It's remarkable to me that I don't feel more. It's remarkable that something, someplace, that was once so important to me can get archived into the back of my mind, lumped into the mess of memories that have come to be known simply as my 20s.
This posting does not mark my triumphant return to LJ. It's been months since I have last posted an entry. While it's true that I haven't felt "inspired" to write the larger issue is that I am coming to think I might be over this whole blogging thing.
In some ways this has been a hard season on the ice for me. Physically I find myself exhausted. I haven't been sleeping well for the past few months. I have gotten into the habit of waking up, exactly, at 3am no matter what time i fall asleep. Once up I am rarely able to get back into a restful sleep and so spend my days chugging along on a few hours of sleep, pushing my sleep deficit into the future hoping that I will catch up before it catches up to me.
There have been petty dramas, minor annoyances compounding into major events, playing out around the station that have made me question the main reason I enjoy being down here: the community. The issue of my last entry, indeed the thread of so many entries of the past few years, finally resolved itself out of mind a few months ago. I don't know that I will return again. i am leaving the option open but realize i probably shouldn't come back. You can only hide from the world in Antarctica for so long.
Otherwise not much is new down here. The ice continues as it has. The exciting has become the mundane.